One Sweet Day
by NaNoWriTJMo
Summary: PREQUEL TO SAILOR HELGA. It's the 30th Century. Arnold and Helga's fates are intertwined as an evil force threatens to tear them apart from this time and forever. #NaNoWriTJMo
1. Chapter 1

ONE SWEET DAY

Was she a ghost? A monster? He couldn't know for sure.

The woman stood placidly in the middle of the lake, her bare feet barely skimming the water's surface despite the fact she stood in the deepest part of the lake, with no rock to support her.

The man saw the woman at night, ambling about as though she had been sleepwalking. He followed her to this spot at the lake, spying on her at the water's perimeter, concealing himself behind an oak tree.

She was so beautiful. Fire-red, waist-length locks seemed to flow and sway to the breeze, though there was no wind. Her hair also seemed to serve as her modesty; the woman was not wearing any garments.

For a brief second the man felt guilty for spying on her? Was she lost? She was staring up into the night sky, at the full moon directly above her. Perhaps he should approach her…

The decision was made for him; the man lost his footing and stumbled onto a tree branch, alerting the woman of his presence.

The woman took a moment to react to the sound, then slowly turned to face the man. The man blanched, then his face reddened immediately; she WAS naked, only her long hair concealing her modesty. He stared in awe at the woman, her emerald green eyes studying him, nary blinking. Now that his presence was known, he had no choice but to act.

"You're…so beautiful," he whispered, mostly to himself, but he couldn't help but feel as though the woman had heard him.

For awhile she did nothing, simply content with staring at the man. Then the woman slowly smiled and and outstretched a pale hand toward her guest.

Lady Bridget paced down the halls of the palace, looking left and right through corridor. She was on a mission, and one that seemed more daunting as the days drew on.

"Your Majesty? Your Majesty?" she strode past the servants impatiently. Where could she have run off to now?

When she reached the garden she sensed she was drawing near to her goal. She briskly entered, the enclosed area of the palace surrounded by cherry blossom trees and divided by a shallow, thin pond that cut through the middle of the garden. After taking a few steps in side, Bridget sighed in relief.

There she was.

A blonde-haired girl in a pink royal gown sat quietly on a rock, her back to Bridget. She appeared to be picking away at the petals of one of the cherry blossoms.

"Your Majesty!"

The girl's back straightened immediately. Without bothering to turn around, she sprinted for the nearest tree and scaled it to its lowest branch.

Bridget sighed in frustration.

"Your Majesty, please let's not do this again….Your Majesty! Lena! Whoa!"

Bridget had lost her footing and fell into the stream, soaking her from head to toe. She hopped immediately out and shook her hair defiantly, making sure to sprinkle the girl with some runaway drops. She should've been mad, but she merely smirked.

"Don't you dare laugh," she threatened.

The girl covered her mouth with her hand and stifled a giggle. Bridget was relieved to finally see her smile. She approached the tree but rather than scale higher, the girl looked on expectantly.

Bridget sighed; she wasn't making it easy for her today.

She assessed the girth of the tree and made a running leap for the branch, ascending the trunk and then barely missing it as she stretched a wayward hand outward. With great difficulty, she pushed herself onto the branch and then sat next to the blonde. When she was close enough, Bridget could see she had been crying.

"So…what's up?"

The blonde did not respond. That was to be expected; the girl hadn't spoken a word since that fateful day when her life had been torn upside-down…

Bridget shook her head. It was not the time for sad thoughts. She needed her. She placed a comforting arm around the blonde girl.

"Are you alright?"

No response from the girl, merely a sniffle from her runny nose.

"Hey…I know you're feeling sad. I feel sad too. I think we're both scared. But…you have to be brave. Not just for yourself but for…them. They wouldn't want to see you cry…" she held the girl's head in her hand for emphasis and looked into her eyes. "And I don't want to see you cry, either."

The girl stared back, wrapping her arms around Bridget in a needy embrace. Bridget held her consolingly and rubbed her back. She placed her chin atop her head and closed her eyes.

"It'll be OK," she whispered.

The blonde girl said nothing, though Bridget could feel her body convulse with the onset of fresh tears.

"Come back here, you freak!"

A boy with a football-shaped head and blonde hair dressed in rags ran with the stray dogs and cats as he tried to escape his bullies. He had swiped a loaf of bread, and rather than share it, he decided to keep it for himself, much to the ire of his assailants. The boy ran as fast as his feet could carry him through the alley, occasionally, knocking over garbage bins and wagons to belay their pursuit.

At some point the blonde boy spotted a pile of old clothing littered in the street. Without hesitating, he jumped into the pile and stood still as the gang ran right past him. When they were out of sight, the boy decided to swipe the half-mask, top hat and cape for himself, then headed off in the opposite direction.

He heard the fanfare, faintly, then with a bit more intensity, then finally he spotted the caravans heading for the palace gates/castle walls.

It was a long procession. But the party moved in silence. The occupants didn't look like outsiders, but at the same time they looked…different. There was something about the way they had carried themselves, as though they were privy to some invaluable wisdom, like the fountain of eternal youth. Inside one of the caravan the boy spotted a young woman with black hair affixed In a bun, typing something into a computer. She's was pretty, but like the others she looked…different. He couldn't place his finger on how, and yet…

"There he is!"

The boy's attention was brought back to the ringleader of the group of boys charging towards him despite his clever disguise. He led chase again but was able to evade them, hitching a ride on one of the caravans making its way within the castle walls. This was the closest he had ever been to the centre of the city, and he knew he would never want to be near the perimeter of Laste Haste, where evil things lurked afoot.

Could these newcomers have come from beyond the walls?

"Welcome to Last Haste!"

The woman with the dark-haired bun exited the caravan to the greeting procession of a short balding man. The woman adjusted her navy blue business suit, as well as her glasses, and gave the man a formal bow.

" _Hajimemasite_ \- thank you. Pleased to meet you."

The bald man closed the caravan door behind her, but not before taking a glance inside. He looked ahead to the rest of the procession, then back to the woman, anxiously.

"And…the others? The Royal Family?"

The woman adjusted her glasses. "Forgive me. I had travelled alone."

The man nodded and continued to grin, but the woman could detect a hint of disappointment in his eyes. "Right this way," he said breezily.

The woman followed the man as he led her to a modern looking building a few hundred metres away; all the while, she clutched the laptop to her chest.

"I must say," began the man, trying to strike up conversation. "This is indeed a momentous occasion. Not since the world was forced into chaos has Last Haste ever received a visitor from beyond the…well, beyond. I trust your travel was pleasant?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Forgive me, this must all seem very…primitive, to you," the man continued, a bit of edge to his voice. "But I can assure you, we here at the Western Kingdom of Last Haste hope to do everything in our power to make sure you are comfortable, Miss…?"

"Heyerdahl. Dr. Phoebe Heyerdahl."

"Hmm, yes. Well, doctor, I for one enthusiastically welcome the joining of our two worlds. Heaven knows we've lived in resplendent squalor for much, much too long."

"I only hope that my insight fuels your research."

"As do I, Dr. Heyerdahl, as do I. This way…"

The man opened the double doors with a great flourish and they both walked inside.

The football-headed boy broke a piece from the loaf of bread he swiped, and traversed down the hall in total awe. Miraculously, he had snuck past the royal guards, and was now within the inner sanctum of the kingdom.

He eventually found his way to the royal garden, and stopped and stared in curiosity at the young blonde girl dancing by herself. It was evident by her flowing movements that she took ballet, and if she was practicing, it certainly wasn't necessary. The boy stood at the entrance of the garden and watched her as she moved to and fro gracefully within the space. Only when she concluded did the boy clap, which finally alerted her to his presence. She gasped and froze in place.

"That was really beautiful," said the boy.

The blonde girl said nothing, eyeing him up and down suspiciously.

He took a step forward. "Are you…who I think you are…?"

The girl took a step back in response.

"My Grandpa told me stories about you…you're the Child Princess of Laste Haste, aren't you? You look about the same age as me."

Once again, the girl remained silent. Feeling a bit awkward with the one-sided conversation, the boy bent down and plucked a pink flower from the ground. He twirled it in his hand for a bit, opting to stare at the spinning petals than make eye contact.

"I like this flower," he said. "It's pretty, like your dress." He extended the hand with the flower, offering it as a gift.

The girl stared at the boy, then at the flower, then back at the boy. At first she didn't know what to make of the situation, but no one except Lady Bridget ever complimented her. In fact, up to that point in her life, she had NEVER been addressed by anyone outside the palace walls. Intrigued by this chance interaction, the girl outstretched her hand toward the gift of the flower.

"PRINCESS HELENA OF THE LAST HASTE, STOP RIGHT THIS INSTANT!"

The girl recoiled away from the gift as though it were poisoned, and retreated away into the garden. The boy tried to follow her, but he was immediately spun around by Lady Bridget, who did not look at all pleased.

"And just what do you think you are doing on the royal grounds?"

The boy was flustered. "I…..I…"

"What's going on here?" Two royal guards in suits of armour appeared at the entrance of the garden, their weapons immediately unsheathed from their hilts. "You know its forbidden for outsiders to set foot in the Sacred Garden. Suppose he were to come in contact with Her Majesty! What is he doing in here?"

"Oh, uh…" Thinking on her feet, Lady Bridget pulled the loaf bread from under the boy's shirt and waved it for the guards to see. "This…servant was just bringing me a snack to present to the Princess. As Helena's personal ward, I can assure you that there would be no fraternizing with lesser folk on my watch. As you were."

The guards looked dubious at first, but then replaced their weapons back in the sheaths and carried on their way. When they were out of earshot, Lady Bridget let out a sigh of relief.

"Phew…that was a close one!" She noticed the boy was trying to tiptoe away, but she stopped him in his tracks. "Uh-uh – you know you're lucky it was me that spotted you first and not those two. Now, what on Earth do you think you're doing?"

"I was just saying hello," explained the football-headed boy. "I saw her dancing by herself, and I thought she could use a little company. It must be lonely being the only kid in this place."

Lady Bridget opened her mouth to speak, then thought against it. "Well, aren't you sweet. But now I think it's time for head home. I'll show you the way."

She grabbed his hand and led him out of the gardens. Before he left, the boy turned and looked into the garden one last time. For a split second, behind a large weeping willow tree, he spotted the Helena, the child princess, peering at him with heightened curiosity and interest.


	2. Chapter 2

Phoebe sipped her beverage alone in the corner of the bar. It was late, and she wanted nothing more than to rest her mind in solitude after a taxing day.

She had been ushered to and fro throughout the kingdom of Last Haste, her tour culminating with a brief visit to the nation's secret laboratory facilities. There, she had gotten her first glimpse at why she was there: to consult on a top-secret weapon that was fashioned in the same manner as that of her home country.

Or, at least, they _thought_ it was a secret. Although they were on the other side of the planet, her rulers were virtually omniscient on all things concerning Earth. Last Haste was fortunate her country's response was benevolent in nature. Perhaps because the fledgling nation had no chance in matching strengths, they could at least keep appearances as though they did…

At the conclusion of the tour, Phoebe stopped her guide. "Excuse me, will I get to meet the King and Queen of Last Haste?"

He sucked in air sharply, then bit his fist. "Oh dear…you haven't been briefed, have you?"

Phoebe frowned. "About what?"

The guide sighed melodramatically. "How awkward….Dr. Heyerdahl, several months ago, a group of dissenters had attacked the royal family while they were traveling to perform their duties."

Phoebe's hand went to her mouth in surprise. "Oh dear…"

"Yes, it was devastating blow, one that would have very well left us defenseless and at the mercy of the rebels. Fortunately, the youngest daughter survived the onslaught and is still with us, and we are able to subdue the dissenters, though we are convinced there are still pockets of them still existing within Last Haste. Which is why your arrival is so instrumental in securing our stronghold from any further attacks. Surely the Eastern Kindgom is aware that is the intention with our little project."

"Of course," replied Phoebe.

She was escorted back to her hotel. She was cognizant of the stares she received. Eyes of distrust plagued her since she set foot in Last Haste.

Even in the bar where she enjoyed her drink she could feel the accusatory eyes of her fellow patrons.

 _No matter_ , she thought finishing her drink. They have every right to be suspicious. _When have we ever done anything for them in the past? We were_ The Other _, after all…._

As if reading her mind, one of the gawkers – a surly man who may have had one too many rounds – approached Phoebe's table and stood glowering at her.

Phoebe looked up. "Yes? Can I help you?"

The man spat on the ground and leaned in menacingly. "When have your kind ever lifted a finger to help us lowly Earth-dwellers? Just because your Queenie comes from outer space, you think you're better than me, is that it? You Moonies make me sick."

 _Moonies_. It was a slur she had not heard in a long time.

Calmly, Phoebe laid out cash to pay for her drink, then stood up and smiled tightly. "Excuse me," she said, brushing past the man and hastily exiting the bar.

She chastised herself for leaving the confines of her hotel. Drunk on the adrenaline of her encounter, she became disoriented and took the wrong route; a group of men from the bar trailed her, and as she tried to get away, she was led right into a dead end.

Her surly assailant from the bar was head of the pack, and he grinned maliciously, tapping a lead pipe in his hand.

"Please," Phoebe said, desperation creeping through her stoic demeanor. "If you let me go, I'll...I'll give you everything in my purse."

The men took a step closer; Phoebe threw the purse at them and backed up against the wall.

"Hey, boys," said the surly leader. "I hear these Moon folk all have magical powers from living so close to their Queen."

"I hear they don't even age," said another. "I wonder if any of that so-called magic is transferable."

"Well, only one way to find out…" said the surly one, and the group closed the distance between themselves and their victim. Phoebe screamed.

Suddenly, a loud whistle rang through the area. All eyes turned to the source; a figure in silhouette caused by the streetlights.

"Now boys, this is hardly a fair fight," came the voice of a woman. "What do you say we even the playing field?"

"Better back off," threatened one of the men. "Or you'll wind up in worse shape than what we'll do to her!"

He approached her and put a gruff hand on the woman's shoulder.

She sighed in disgust. "So I guess we're doing this the hard way, huh?"

A much larger hand came seemingly from out of nowhere and grabbed the man that grabbed her, lifted him off the ground and tossed him into the rest of the men. The rest of the body attached to the hand came closer and proceeded to beat up the group with lethal efficiency.

The woman lightly brushed her shoulder with her hand. "Had enough, boys?"

Moaning and groaning, the group of men stumbled over one another in effort to flee the woman and her mysterious shadow.

Phoebe slid from her spot on the wall to the ground, too paralyzed with fear to react to what had transpired.

When they approached, Phoebe could see that the woman was slender and wearing a red powersuit and skirt, and had long black hair down to her waist. Her partner was also female, but taller and of muscular build, and wearing army fatigues and a blue beret on her head. Her brown hair was in a messy braid that was shoulder-length.

"I hope we didn't startle you," said the woman in red. "Don't worry: we're the good guys."

She extended her hand; Phoebe graciously accepted it.


	3. Chapter 3

"Thank you," said Phoebe as she accepted the mug of warm tea from the muscular woman who had saved her.

She was brought to the house of the woman in the powersuit; it was a veritable mansion, and the three of them retired in the large room that made up the lounge. There, once she was examined for injuries, Phoebe sat on a plush red leather sofa and swaddled herself in a large throw blanket.

The woman in the pantsuit sat cross-legged across from her on red loveseat while the muscular woman continued to stand. "So how are you feeling? Better?"

"Yes, extremely," replied Phoebe; she blew the steam away from her mug before taking a sip. "Thank you for saving me, both of you."

The in the loveseat smiled, resting her chin in her hand. "I know who you are. You're Dr. Heyerdahl. Your reputation certainly precedes you."

Phoebe stared into the liquid of the mug. "Apparently…"

"Allow me to introduce myself," the woman stood from her spot from the loveseat. I'm Rhonda Wellington Lloyd. And over here is my personal assistant-slash-bodyguard, Patty Smith."

She gestured over to Patty, who merely nodded in acknowledgement.

Rhonda suddenly became flustered. "Oh dear – what's customary for your citizens? Do you bow? I don't want to offend you…"

Phoebe smiled. "Please, that won't be necessary. I should be bowing to you for rescuing me from my earlier precarious situation."

Rhonda looked relieved. "Well, contrary to what happened tonight, you are quite the celebrity around here. The illustrious doctor from the other side of the world, destined to rescue us all."

"I'm mainly here on reconnaissance, actually…"

"Do you know the history of Last Haste?" Rhonda walked over to a large map hanging on a wall on the opposite side of the lounge. "It's quite fascinating: when the Earth was on the brink of destruction, the ruler of the Eastern Kingdom used her power to heal the entire planet. Technically, the entire world is under her dominion," she pointed to a spot in the middle of the map, "except for right here. Not quite healed, survivors in this region had the autonomy to create their own nation independent of the Queen…."

"Because her reach was the weakest in the spot furthest away from her power," Phoebe chimed in. "It was the last vestiges of the old world – that's where the name 'Last Haste' originated."

Rhonda's eyes brightened. "I should have known you'd be well-versed."

"Of course – I was actually born in Last Haste."

Patty said nothing, but looked at Rhonda, alarmed at the revelation. Rhonda smiled. "My, you are certainly full of surprises. Let's go for a drive."

Phoebe removed the throw blanket from around her shoulders. "Actually, I should really get back to my hotel…"

"Pish posh! We promise to return you, but for now, let's go on a little trip."

* * *

Phoebe sat in the back of the Rolls Royce with Rhonda as Patty drove them through the dark streets of Last Haste. for the second time that day, Phoebe was treated to a tour of the city, only this time, the theme was tied around the several buildings and businesses that Rhonda owned.

"And I own this factory….and that building…ooh!...that place does amazing sushi…"

Eventually they pulled into a familiar area. Phoebe looked around in confusion. "This is…"

"That's right," said Rhonda.

"But how do you know about…?"

Rhonda smiled conspiratorially. "Who do you think funded this super-secret project?"

The car drove underground for several minutes before stopping in front of a large steel door. The three women got out and Rhonda punched in her clearance numbers; the door opened with a thunderous clang and they walked down a long, narrow, windowless corridor.

"So you were born in Last Haste?" said Rhonda, making conversation.

"Correct," said Phoebe. "When I was nine, I had the highest test scores of all the other students in the nation, and I was given the opportunity to study with Professor Mizuno in the Eastern Kingdom. So I took it."

"Fascinating," said Rhonda. There was a beat, then she spoke again. "And…did you meet her?"

"Of course. I was under Dr. Mizuno's tutelage for-"

"No…I mean…did you meet… _her_?" she turned to look at Phoebe earnestly. "The Queen?"

"Oh. No….but, I did see her, once."

"What was she like?"

As she considered her response, Phoebe had a faraway wistful look in her eyes, uncharacteristic of her normal nature. "She was…magnificent."

"Hmm…I'm certain. And I hear her fashion sense is spectacular."

"I heard she's kind of a ditz," said Patty, speaking or the first time.

Phoebe stopped in her tracks. "What?"

Rhonda burst out laughing. "Well….when you're all-powerful, I'm sure being called a klutz is the least of your worries."

The three women passed through a pair of large glass sliding doors and descended down a spiral staircase leading down to a laboratory. There, in the centre of the room, a suit hung on a mannequin. It was feminine in design, and had details that one would find in a sailor uniform. Close to the suit, but not attached, were two barrel-shape cuff weapons meant to be worn on the arms.

Rhonda stood in front of the suit and beamed. "Ta-da! Here we are- our ace in the hole to win against the rebellion!"

Phoebe examined the suit; she walked around it and scrutinized, but said nothing.

Rhonda could bear the silence no longer. "It's pretty, no? What the French like to call 'tres chic'. Although, we hope to get it as functional as it is fashionable. We're hoping that your expertise is the key element we're missing.

After circling the suit, Phoebe paused and shook her head. "It can't be done," she said softly.

Broken from her reverie, Rhonda regarded Phoebe. "I beg your pardon?"

"I said it's impossible. It can't be done. I know what you're all asking of me, and I'm telling you now I don't have the means to get this suit operational. I'm sorry."

"Just like that? You're just going to give up? You just got here! You haven't even worked on it yet! Tested it! We could be right on the verge of a breakthrough. With a little extra time I'm sure you can figure out what we need!"

"It's not that I don't know what the suit needs," Phoebe explained calmly. "It's that I DO know. It needs…a power source."

"A power source?" Rhonda mulled over that information, and a disappointed look washed over her face. "So that's it…"

"Of course that's it," said Patty, who purposely chose to stay as far away from the suit as possible. "That's always been it. The scientists here at Last Haste knew it from the start. The reason she's here is because they thought she'd have the knowledge to replicate the energy of the Crystal. But she doesn't. No one could replicate that."

"Is it true?" Rhonda asked. Phoebe nodded. "I see…"

The room went silent again until Rhonda clapped her hands together to get everyone's attention. "You're tired – that must be it. You're jet lagged from your journey and you're not thinking straight…."

Phoebe sighed. "Rhonda…"

"Listen, I have faith in you. Frankly, I think that you lack confidence. But you're a brilliant scientist, Dr. Heyerdahl – you may not believe it, but I KNOW you'll unlock the secret to getting this suit to work."

"But Rhonda…"

"I don't care how powerful that Crystal is – it's just a silly little rock. If it can perform miracles, then so can you," she made her way back to the door leading to the corridor. "Come Patty – let's take her home. I'm sure the doctor has a very busy day ahead of her tomorrow."

Patty gestured toward the door. "After you."

Phoebe complied and the three women left the facility.

* * *

Mrs. Sawyer was in the living room, rocking back and forth in her rocking chair. She looked out the window to the outside world as she rubbed her large belly, placing a hand over the green fabric of her dress.

Mr. Sawyer was doing the dishes in the adjacent kitchen. He had just handed his wife a cup of tea but was still watching her, concern etched on his face.

They had gotten married soon after their encounter at the lake, and she had become pregnant not long after. He loved his wife, but from the beginning Mr. Sawyer there was something off about her. It was like the woman he loved was constantly grappling with some other force inside her. One moment she'd be caring and attentive, and in another instant she'd become distant and reserved. Occasionally she'd lash out at him, and when she did, it was like she became a completely different person. She would never remember the incident, which made him all the more certain she was at odds with something he didn't entirely understand.

"Aaah!" Mrs. Sawyer's tea cup shattered as it hit the floor. She struggled to get up, both hands on her stomach. Her pale face became even paler as she strained through her pain.

"It's coming…they're coming…" she gasped out.

* * *

Bridgette woke up abruptly, sitting up in her bed. She was breathing heavily; a cold sweat had broken out on her forehead.

"You okay, babe?" There was stirring beside her on the bed; a man with dark skin and tall hair was roused awake and looked at her in concern.

"I'm fine," Bridgette replied. "Just a bad dream, I suppose…"

"You've been getting a lot of those lately."

Bridgette chuckled softly. "Guess I'm just lucky like that. Go back to sleep; I've got princess duty and you've got to guard the palace."

The man groaned into his pillow. "Wanna switch places?"

She hit him over the head with her pillow. "Not a chance. Besides, you get the short end of the stick on that deal – trust me."

He rolled over and dozed back off. Bridgette laid back down, but couldn't will her eyes to close.

Something big was going to happen soon. She could feel it.

 **[A/N: _Very_ seldom do these, but here goes nothing... _Kryten_ \- appreciate the feedback! Hope the world I build is to your liking. You were half right on Phoebe's rescuers, and I've added a new familiar face to this chapter. We may see more of him later.]**


	4. Chapter 4

Arnold was in the market with his folks, Stella and Miles, attempting to barter goods in exchange for food. His parents were much better at this than he was (hence the occasional swiping of bread loaves), so it wasn't long before he began to loiter about, scoping vendors where he could exercise his four-finger discount.

Eventually he came across a shop where the door was open but no one was tending to the wares. As he entered and began pilfering items, Arnold heard voices coming from another door at the back of the shop. He tiptoed over and peeked inside; it was a cellar, and a group of men, including the shopkeeper were sitting in a circle on the lower level of the shop.

"Won't be long now," said one of them.

"Aye," responded another. "The longer we stand idle, the closer we are to the Moonies moving in and taking us over by force."

"It's already begun," said a third. "One of their own has come to make their claim on our kingdom. I've heard this "diplomatic mission" is really nothing more than a front for their hostile takeover."

"Okay, then it's settled!" chimed in the shopkeeper. "This reign of tyranny ends tomorrow night! We storm the castle and overtake the throne by force!"

"And the surviving princess?" asked a man.

"What princess?" said the shopkeeper. All the men joined into a laughter that was not at all joyous, full of ill intent.

Arnold backed away from the cellar door, inadvertently bumping into a stand and knocking items over in a deafening crash.

"Who's up there?!" barked the shopkeeper. Arnold did not want to be seen when he appeared through the cellar so he ran out of the shop as fast as his feet could carry him.

He even ran by his parents in his haste to get away. "Hey Arnold!" yelled Miles. "Where are you going?!"

But Arnold was on a mission. He knew that the kingdom of Last Haste would soon be under siege by its own people. It was up to him to spread the news before it was too late, and he knew just who to tell.

* * *

Gerald saw him about a mile away from his post; a strange-looking kid with a football-shaped head running toward the palace as though he was being chased by a pack of ravenous wolves.

Of course, he stopped him as he got in front of the palace gates. "Whoa, whoa – where's the fire, kid? Can I help you with something?"

"You've got to let me in!" Arnold said between sharps gasps of air for breath. "They're planning this attack on the kingdom! They want to take over and I don't know what they plan on doing to the princess so I've to go in and warn her!"

"Attack?" Gerald frowned. Sure, there have been rumours of a rebellion, but more often than not it was a small drunken group of dissenters that just needed to be brought back in line. Still, any threat to the throne had to be brought to their attention.

"Ah, get lost, kid!" said the other guard keeping watch with Gerald. "We don't have time for your stupid pranks!"

"Actually, maybe I should take this to one of the higher-ups, just in case…" said Gerald. "You never know."

The other guard sighed. "Whatever."

"I'll go with you!" said Arnold. As he attempted to follow, however, Gerald promptly stopped him and turned him around.

"Uh-uh," he said. "Go home. Let the grown-ups handle this."

"But-!"

Gerald pointed in the opposite direction. "Home."

Arnold sighed and trudged away.

"What's his problem?" said the other guard.

"I don't know….I think that kid is kinda bold…"

The guard scoffed. "You would!"

"Hey, man – why do you always have to be in my grill?"

As the two guards had it out or one another, Arnold took advantage of their distraction to climb the wall on the side of the palace and enter through an open window on one of the upper floors.

"…Anyway, forget you!" Gerald said finally, and walked into the castle.

Meanwhile, Arnold's window climb found him in a mid-sized chamber with a bed and a vanity table. At table, Princess Helena was brushing her hair. Arnold fell to the floor, alerting her of the intrusion.

Helena head whipped around in alarm, and when she saw Arnold, she belted out an ear-shattering scream.

"No no no – don't do that!" Arnold stood up and walked toward her, freaking her out further. She threw her brush at him, hitting him on the head. "Ow!"

When that didn't deter him, Helena ran to another part of the room where a pile of pink books were stacked on the floor. She then proceeded to whip the books at him.

At this point, Bridgette burst into the room. "What is going on in here?!" She spotted Helena in mid-throwing position, with Arnold on the ground, shielding himself. "YOU AGAIN?!"

"I can explain-!"

Bridgette was having none of it. She crossed the room in a few angry steps and pulled on his ears, lifting him off the ground. "You are in so much trouble…let's go!"

Helena watched as Bridgette practically dragged Arnold by the ear out of her chamber.

* * *

The guard outside had heard the commotion and contemplated investigating, until something materialized before him.

There was a giant orb of white light that appeared, then dissipated, leaving behind three figures. Two were cats, which straddled the third: a teenage girl. She was wearing a blue schoolgirl uniform and had long, pink hair, done up in two large, puffy ponytails.

The smaller of the two cats – a grey kitten – hopped into the arms of the pinked-hair girl as she surveyed her surroundings, unaware of the trembling guard.

"We're here," she said.


	5. Chapter 5

The guard steadied himself as the pink-haired teenager approached.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"I'm the Princess of the Eastern Kingdom," said the teenager. "I demand that you let me pass."

"Eastern Kingdom…?" the guard frowned and raised his weapon. "Impossible! Do you have any idea how far that place is? You're bluffing!"

"So you need proof?" asked the girl. "Very well…" She closed her eyes to concentrate. Suddenly, a pink gem in the shape of a lotus flower emerged from out of her chest, appearing in front of her. Her clothes transformed from its schoolgirl uniform to a sleeveless white gown with gold trim. A glowing mark in the shape of a crescent moon appeared on her forehead.

Shocked, the guard fell to his knees, speechless.

"I hope this suffices as evidence," said the girl. She changed back to her civilian garb, and the crescent moon and crystal vanished as soon as it came. She walked by the guard with the grey kitten in her hand, the black cat following close behind.

"It's true…the rumours are true!" the guard said to himself. He stood up and left his post, running towards the bustling core of the city.

* * *

"Why won't you listen to me?!" said Arnold, as Bridgette dragged him down the corridor toward the castle entrance. "Can't you just take five seconds to listen what I have to say?"

Bridgette sighed. "Look, kid – what's your name again?"

"It's Arnold."

"Right. Arnold – I know you want to get to know the princess. I get it; she's alone in the world and you think that by offering your friendship she'll come around and be a normal, adjusted girl. But you've got to understand: it's just not that simple."

"That's not why I'm here at all!"

Bridgette stopped and knelt so that she was eye level with Arnold. "I'm sure you're a great boy and all, and I really don't want to see anything bad happen to you. But I guarantee there's nothing you can tell me that was worth risking your life coming here again."

"Bridge!" Gerald came running down the corridor to meet Bridgette and Arnold.

Bridgette frowned. "I told you not to call me that when we're on duty, Gerald!" she hissed.

"Sorry…. _Lady Bridgette_ , I've been informed of a planned attack on Last Haste, and they intend to target the princess."

"Really? Who was your source?"

Gerald opened his mouth to respond, but then noticed Arnold beside Bridgette. "You….! It was him!"

"What?" Bridgette looked at Arnold sternly. "Why didn't you tell us?!"

Arnold raised his hands in exasperation. "That's the whole reason why I'm here! And anyway, you said it wouldn't matter what I said!"

"That's totally different!" countered Bridgette. "We've got to get the princess to a safe place."

"Ahem," said a voice. All eyes turned to see the pink-haired girl with the two cats standing in front to them.

"Gerald, why is no one guarding the front gate?" asked Bridgette.

"I'm not sure. I left the other guard there when I came to talk to you."

"Who are you?" demanded Bridgette.

"I am the Princess of the Eastern Kingdom," replied the girl.

"The Eastern Kingdom…you mean Crystal Tokyo?"

The girl nodded. "You may call me Small Lady."

"No way…" Gerald said under his breath.

Bridgette was nonplussed. "With all due respect, Small Lady, why are you here?"

"I came to retrieve Dr. Phoebe Heyerdahl," said Small Lady. "Crystal Tokyo has rescinded its support of its collaboration with Last Haste and wishes to take her back immediately."

"Rescinded its support…why would it change its mind so suddenly?"

"Apparently, Last Haste was deemed a less than stable nation. Crystal Tokyo would like to re-assess a few matters before we agree to any future projects."

"How dare you...you take that back!" The comment had rankled Gerald, who involuntarily raised his weapon in defense.

" _Johanssen, put your arms down this instant!_ " ordered Bridgette. Embarrassed, he had no choice to comply. She then looked to Small Lady and gave a conciliatory bow. "Forgive me, your Highness."

"Who is in charge here?" asked Small Lady. "I wish to speak directly to the King and Queen."

Arnold and Gerald looked at each other. "Actually, I am in charge," said Bridgette.

Small Lady regarded her coolly. "So YOU'RE the member of the Royal family that teaches your guards to act so poorly?"

Gerald winced.

"No…actually, I'm the regent. I speak on behalf of the Princess because she can't yet speak for herself."

"I still wish to see her," insisted Small Lady, and she brushed past the group and walked ahead before turning to look back. "Well? I demand that I be shown to her."

Gerald bristled, but Bridgette held him back. "I'll go get the Princess. When we're ready, please bring Small Lady to the Royal Garden."

"Well, what about him?" Gerald motioned with his head to Arnold, who was still taking in all the royal intrigue.

"You leave him with me."

"What?" Gerald and Arnold said simultaneously.

Bridgette pulled Arnold aside. "Well, you're here now. You want to get to know the Princess? Soon you'll get your chance."


	6. Chapter 6

Bridgette stood with Princess Helena and Arnold in the Royal Garden.

"Thank you for letting me stay," said Arnold. "I'm still not sure why you changed your mind."

"Because I don't think the Small Lady trusts what I say," explained Bridgette. "And frankly, I don't entirely trust her to be alone with the Princess. I need you to stay with Helena while I'm away."

"Where are you going?"

"I have to find this Dr. Heyerdahl. Gerald will be sure to keep an eye on you two."

Helena hugged Bridgette hugged tightly. "Be brave," she whispered. To Arnold, she said: "I'll be back shortly."

She exited the Royal Garden. Arnold looked at Princess Helena and smiled. "Guess it's just you and me now, huh?"

She blew a raspberry at him and gave Arnold the cold shoulder.

"What is your problem, anyway? Why do you have such a bad attitude? Sure, things didn't turn out for you the way you hoped, but that's no reason to close yourself off from life."

He outstretched his hand. "Come on. Just this once - let's work together."

Helena turned around. She sighed, but reluctantly took his hand and shook it.

"So it's true. The ruler of Laste Haste is just a child."

Small Lady entered the garden, her two cats straddling her; Arnold reflexively stood in front of Helena.

"I'm here to take Dr. Heyerdahl home. Is she here?"

No answer. Small Lady frowned.

"She can't talk," said Arnold.

"She can't, or she _won't_?"

"I think she can talk, but she chooses not to," said the grey kitten.

Arnold's eyes widened. "Did that cat just TALK?"

"Of course she can talk!" snapped Small Lady impatiently. "The question at hand is why SHE refuses to speak?"

"What does it matter to you? It's her decision if she chose to open up. But she has a right to not speak to you – nothing short of a miracle will get her to do otherwise!"

"A miracle, you say?" Small Lady grinned mischievously. "I think I could conjure something up…."

She dug in her hand in her pocket and pulled out a small silver key. She then held her other hand above her head while gripping the key. "As heir to the throne of Crystal Tokyo, I possess the Pink Moon Crystal. But over the years I've discovered a unique but effective trick when coupled with the Crystal Time Key..."

There was a blinding white light, causing Helena and Arnold to shield their eyes. When the light dissipated, they saw that Small Lady was holding a tiny white spherical gem. "Behold! The Legendary Silver Crystal!"

She pointed it at Helena, and its power caused a gravitational force that brought her to her knees.

"What are you doing?" asked the grey kitten.

"Relax, Diana," said Small Lady. "I just want to get her to talk."

Helena resisted the Crystal's power, but it was evident it was causing her considerable pain as tears streamed down her face.

"Stop it!" yelled Arnold. "You're hurting her!" He stood between her and Small Lady, alleviating the full effect of the Crystal on Helena. Eventually, he, too, succumbed to its power and collapsed to the ground.

"Speak!" commanded Small Lady. "I'll make it stop when you tell me what I want to know!"

 _ **"ALL RIGHT! ENOUGH!"**_

This time it was the black cat who spoke, and she sounded not at all pleased. Immediately, Small Lady stopped her assault on the two children and lowered her head.

"Chibi-Usa, I'm very disappointed in you! I have no idea how you were able to replicate the Silver Crystal, but I do know that your mother Neo-Queen Serenity would most certainly not permit it to be used in such a reckless, egregious way!"

"Sorry, Luna…" she said in a small voice.

As Luna continued to give Small Lady a dressing-down, both Arnold and Helena slowly struggled to get back on their feet. By the time they were standing again, Small Lady's face was so red with shame she looked like she had gotten a really bad sunburn.

"….You begged and pleaded to be taken seriously and allowed to conduct diplomatic missions, and the first opportunity you get you threaten the ruling class of a foreign nation with bodily harm for not speaking to you directly. If you think you that's the behaviour of a real lady, then you have another thing coming…!"

That did it. Small Lady exploded. "Oooooooooooooh-! Why do you have to be so mean to me, Luna?! I said I was sorry!" she ran out of the garden in tears.

"Small Lady, wait!" Both Luna and Diana chased after their pink-haired ward, leaving Arnold and Helena alone for the second time.

"Are you hurt?" Arnold asked. Helena shook her head. "She's got a lot to learn about being a ruler of a kingdom that's for sure…" She tugged on him in earnest. "Yes? What is it?"

" _Th-th-th-th-"_

"What?

" _Th-th-th-thank y-you…."_ Her voice was hoarse, and came out in barely a whisper from lack of use, but it was unmistakable. For the first time in a long time, since the loss of her family, the Princess of Last Haste spoke, and she let Arnold be privy to this momumental event. She held on to him tightly; Arnold returned the embrace.

"You're welcome, Princess…it's the least I could do." She struggled to use her voice again. "What's that?"

" _Your head….it looks like a football._ "

* * *

Mrs. Sawyer was watching her twin infants snooze in their crib, when suddenly she began to thrash and convulse violently. Mr. Sawyer ran into the nursery, startled, and tried to subdue his wife, but she used her preternatural strength to launch him into the wall.

Mr. Sawyer lay on the floor; he could hear his infant children crying as his wife left he nursery. He crawled over to the crib and climbed to his feet. "Honey, what's wrong? What is it?"

Mrs. Sawyer turned to look at her husband; her red hair stood on end, thrashing about like every strand was alive. Her eyes had become a pupil-less pitch black.

" _Ginzuishou….!_ " She hissed, before jumping out the window and disappearing into the night.


	7. Chapter 7

Work was in full-swing in the secret laboratory for Last Haste's ultimate weapon. Phoebe supervised the efforts of the scientists on duty, while Rhonda and Patty watched through the glass of a closed-off room above the laboratory.

"I don't think they'll ever get that suit fully operational," Patty said.

"Oh ye of little faith," chided Rhonda. "Actually, I have the feeling we're on the verge of a breakthrough…"

As she said this, the door leading into the laboratory burst open, and a group of mask-wearing men toting guns stormed the area.

The scientists were taken out instantly by the intruders; Phoebe ducked to the ground and crawled to a relatively safe corner of the lab.

Immediately, Patty grabbed Rhonda and pulled her away from the window; she kicked a table over to use as a shield and ducked behind it, cocking her gun.

"What about Phoebe?!" Rhonda said frantically.

"We're under attack," Patty said with emphasis. "Keeping you safe is my number one priority."

* * *

Meanwhile, Bridgette was running full tilt down the corridor leading to the lab, immediately aware that something was awry. She entered through the doors, stealthily; she counted six men with guns walking about on the lower level, rummaging about for valuables left behind by the slain scientists.

"I think that Moonie Doctor was here," said one of the masked men. "Find her, she couldn't have gone far."

It looked bad; there was only one way out of the laboratory, and it looked increasingly unlikely that Bridgette would be able to retrieve Dr. Heyerdahl and make it out in one piece.

That's when she made her decision: she would distract the men long enough to give the doctor and opportunity to escape.

It was suicide, of course; but she needed someone to make it to the palace to warn the others of the rebellion that was already in full swing.

Bridgette closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Forgive me, Princess…"

She ran into the lab and leapt over the railing onto the lower levels of lab, skipping the stairs entirely.

"Hey! Over here!" she waved her arms erratically, getting the attention of the men so that they were all looking at her and not at the stairwell.

* * *

"Did you hear that?" said Rhonda. "Someone else is here. Maybe to save us!"

"Stay down!" Patty warned, but Rhonda crawled over to the window and peeked to the commotion down below.

* * *

"Who is she?" asked one of the men.

"Looks like royal stock," said another.

"Well then…this makes our purge of the castle that much easier," said a third, raising his weapon.

All the guns were pointed at Bridgette, who fully accepted her faith.

Phoebe cautioned a glance from her hiding place, then noticed that the stairway was free.

She had a clear opportunity to get away, and even went a few steps in the direction of freedom. But when her eyes met with Bridgette's she knew she couldn't abandon her.

"Leave her alone!" she cried. "It's me you want!"

The men turned around again.

"No….!" yelled Bridgette.

What happened next, even she couldn't anticipate. During her standoff with the armed men, Bridgette had been standing in front of the case that held the suit. When she called out, the suit began to glow. All eyes were on the case as the suit exploded out of its confinement and adorned itself upon Bridgette's body. She now wore the suit, which comprised of a pink and blue sailor collar a short pink and blue skirt with corresponding pink and blue detailed boots and pink and blue-detailed ¾-length gloves, which flared out at the elbow. The suit was completed by a gold tiara that rested on her forehead.

Bridgette looked at herself in total amazement and shock. "Whoa…what on earth is this get-up…?!"

"She knows magic? Take her out, men!"

All the guns fired at once; Bridgette held out her hand in front of her and a wave of pink, heart-shaped energy shot out, disintegrating the bullets before they could make impact. She looked closely at her hand, then made a fist and smiled.

"Awesome…." she waved her hand in a flourish as millions of tiny pink hearts appeared and slammed the men against the wall and the lab equipment. Knocking them all unconscious.

Phoebe walked over to the newly-suited Bridgette, still too stunned for words. "You…how did…?"

"Dr. Heyerdahl? My name's Bridgette; I'm from the palace," she shook her hand. "I'm taking you back with me – in case you haven't noticed, there's a rebellion going on."

Still too flustered for full sentences, Phoebe merely nodded her head. "As you wish," she finally said.

Bridgette grabbed Phoebe's hand and exited the lab, oblivious the pounding of Rhonda's angry fists against the glass from her hiding place.

"Wait! Come back!" Rhonda cried.

"We've got to get out of here before those men wake up," said Patty. "Then we'll stowaway in the panic room of your house until this all blows over."

"No! No panic room!" insisted Rhonda. "We've got to follow them to the palace!"

"The palace?! Didn't you hear what she just said? We're in the middle of a veritable war zone!"

"I don't care!" yelled Rhonda, going full temper-tantrum mode. "I've spent millions designing this suit and years on R&D trying to get it to work, and suddenly Miss Hero gets it up and running and just runs away with it? Uh-uh! No way! I WILL get a return on my investment or my name isn't Rhonda Wellington Lloyd! Now take me to the palace – that is an order!"

Patty put her gun back in its holster and sighed. "As you wish."

 **[A/N: Kryten - no, Lila's not the antichrist. She's not even Mrs. Sawyer; that's Lila's mother. As for what her deal is? All will be revealed in the final chapter...]**


	8. Chapter 8

Out of the watchful eye of Diana and Luna, Small Lady sat alone on the ground in a secluded room in the castle's highest tower. There she traced the ground with her finger and pouted, ashamed by her earlier behaviour.

"It's not fair…" she muttered. "I wish I could act like a real lady, like my mom. I just want to make her proud. I just want to make a difference."

The ground in the centre of the room suddenly rippled and turned black. Small Lady stood up and regarded the space, first with interest, then with fear; Mrs. Sawyer rose from the space in the darkness. Her fiery red hair still had a mind of its own, and its strands all seemed to point in the direction of Chibi-Usa.

" _Ginzuishou_ …" she said in a low voice. "I must have it….this time I will have it…"

"Who are you?!" said Small Lady, taking a step back.

"Give me the Crystal, child…" said Mrs. Sawyer. "I need the strength to transform this weak body…."

She reached for the hand that was still holding the Silver Crystal. This caused Small Lady to find her voice.

"No! I won't let you take it! _Moon Crystal Po—_ "

Mrs. Sawyer (or at least the entity using her body), grabbed Small Lady by the shoulders; Small Lady retaliated by slapping her across the face. Undeterred, Mrs. Sawyer lunged again for the hand gripping the Crystal, this time wrapping both her own hands around Small Lady's fist.

"It shall be mine!" she declared. Suddenly, the Crystal shone through both Small Lady's and Mrs. Sawyer's fingers.

"What's happening?!" cried Small Lady.

The light became more and more intense, until the entire room was awash in light. When only white iridescence could be seen, the light finally dissipated. The Crystal dropped to the floor; both Small Lady and Mrs. Sawyer had vanished.

* * *

Bridgette and Phoebe were about 100 yards away from the palace when they spotted the mob move en masse to the castle.

"I'll clear a path through them," instructed Bridgette, still in the suit. "When you get inside, look for the guard Gerald. Tell him to take the Princess to a safe location and stay put until I find him!"

"Got it," said Phoebe. Bridgette used the full power of her suit to blast through the unsuspecting crowd, and Phoebe ran straight through them. She eventually reached the castle entrance; she only turned the first corner when a gun was pointed at her. She raised her hands in defense.

"Don't shoot!" said Phoebe.

"Who are you?" demanded Gerald. "How did you get in?"

"Are you Gerald? I was sent by Bridgette to find you. She told me you two were friends."

"Just friends? Hmm…" Gerald lowered his weapon and regarded Phoebe with new eyes. "Aren't you that famous doctor? I heard you were smart, but no one mentioned how beautiful you are…"

Phoebe was unimpressed. "Later, Romeo. Right now we need to locate the Princess."

* * *

Arnold and Helena were still in the garden. They both laid in the grass, looking up at the sky, their heads touching.

"…and that's what happened to my family," explained Helena.

"Do you miss them?" asked Arnold.

"Sometimes…I barely remember them. Bridgette has been my family. She's my sister, my mother, my father…"

"Sounds like you really love her."

"Yeah…" Helena said, a faraway quality in her voice.

Arnold sat up. "Do you hear that?"

"What?"

Arnold stood up and ran over to the tall tree in the garden. "Sounds like there's something going on outside." He climbed the tree with dexterous speed, reaching the top in no time. At that height he could see over the castle walls; from his vantage point he could see the unruly mob in front of the palace, fighting to get inside.

He quickly descended the tree, just as Helena approached the trunk. "What's wrong?"

"We have to leave," Arnold said, grabbing her hand and running out of the garden. "What's the safest place in the palace?"

"I know a spot – follow me."

* * *

Bridgette showed no signs of slowing down, even as she reached the front of the rebellious skirmish. She pulled her punches, however, when she spotted a familiar face cowering before her near the palace gates: it was the guard from earlier.

"Please, don't hurt me!" said the guard.

"I wouldn't dream of it," said Bridgette. "But where were you earlier?"

"Forgive me, Lady Bridgette. The princess from Crystal Tokyo, she overpowered me to get into the castle."

"No matter. Help Gerald find Princess Helena."

"Oh, thank you, thank y-"

"Don't thank me! Just do your job." Bridgette returned to quelling the angry mob. The guard cocked his gun, his face darkening with an unreadable expression.

"With pleasure…."

* * *

Diana and Luna were also running through the palace at this time, still unable to locate their princess.

"Small Lady? Small Lady?" called out Luna.

The guard nearly ran over Luna as he turned the corner.

"Get out of my way, you mangy fleabag!" he said, and kicked Luna with the full force of his foot.

Luna hit the wall hard, and was knocked unconscious. The guard continued onward; Diana came to the aid of her mother, who was unconscious.

"Mama! Wake up mama!" she cried, fighting back tears.

Eventually, Luna's eyes fluttered open.

"Mama! Are you hurt badly?"

"No….Diana…" Luna said hoarsely, her breathing laboured. "I need you to find….Chibi-Usa. I fear something terrible has happened to her. Follow that man."

* * *

Arnold and Helena found themselves in the chamber of the highest tower in the castle. As they scaled to the top of the winding stairwell, Helena's eyes locked onto the glittering item in the corner of the room.

"We should be safe here," said Arnold, looking out the open window to survey the chaos on the ground below.

Helena walked over to the source of the glittering and picked it up, examining it. "Hey Arnold…isn't this…"

She froze. The guard was at top of the steps, his gun pointed directly at her.

Arnold turned around. He didn't react; instead he calmly walked over to Helena and stood in front of her, shielding her with his own body.

"Arnold…what are you doing?"

"I won't let him hurt you, Helena…"

"But Arnold…"

 ** _BANG!_**

The barrel of the gun smoked from firing its round. Arnold's hand went reflexively for his chest before he collapsed to the ground.

"ARNOLD!"

"Death to the Last Haste monarchy!" the guard yelled, aiming the gun at Helena as his finger flexed the trigger….

Gerald tackled the guard and the bullet meant for her veered to the left and hit the wall; Helena fell to the floor. The two men grappled in the small space of the room as Gerald tried to wrest the gun from the guard's grip, and the guard tried to fire off another round to subdue Gerald.

They were so engrossed in their struggle that BOTH men tripped over Helena and stumbled out the open window of the tower.

* * *

Rhonda and Patty rolled up in their vehicle, just as Bridgette subdued the last of the mob. Rhonda jumped out of the Rolls Royce before the car had even stopped.

"That. Was. Incredible!" she exclaimed, rushing up to Bridgette.

"Uh…and you are?" said Bridgette.

"Rhonda Wellington Lloyd – designer and investor of your senshi warrior suit." She handed Bridgette her card.

At that moment, Phoebe appeared at the entrance after running full tilt.

"Gerald's in trouble!"

"What's wrong? Where's Gerald?"

"Look up there!" Patty pointed to the highest tower, and all four woman watched as the two men toppled out of its open window to the ground below.

"Oh my God!" cried Rhonda.

"GERALD!" Bridgette used the suit to leap the castle walls and get a head start to finding the fallen men.

* * *

"Arnold, please don't die…" pleaded Helena, her eyes filling with tears. She held him close to her body, disregarding the blood that was quickly seeping from his chest and staining her royal dress.

Arnold slowly raised his hand and held it to her cheek. "Don't cry, princess…" he managed to say. "I'm so glad…I got to spend time with you….all I wanted was to be your friend…."

"You're are my friend, stupid football-head," she cried. "But not if you die…I forbid you to die…!"

"I just wish….that we had more time together…I wish you and I could spend one more day in the garden…."

Arnold eyes closed and he went still. Helena went hysterical, bawling her eyes out as rocked back and forth as she held the dead boy in her arms.

Then she remembered. The Crystal lay at her feet. It had gotten her to speak again…could it really bring the dead back to life?

She picked it up and inspected it, turning it over in her hands. _Could this little rock really perform miracles?_

Only one way to find out.

* * *

Diana scaled the winding staircase of the tallest tower. She was close, she could feel it. As she got to the top she was horrified by what she saw: Arnold, dead on the ground. And Princess Helena, standing over the boy, holding the Crystal above her head with both hands.

" _ **I WISH TO GO BACK IN TIME, BEFORE ANY OF THIS AWFULNESS HAPPENED."**_

"NO!" said Diana, running towards the Princess.

But it was too late.

The damage had already been done.

A vague wish. Coupled with the Pink Moon Crystal. And the Time Key.

All spelled catastrophe.

The birth of the grave incident.

* * *

Bridgette found Gerald at the base of the tower, critically wounded but still alive. He had fallen on top of the traitorous guard, who had died upon impact with the ground.

She knelt beside him, on the verge of tears. "Gerald…"

Gerald strained to turn his head. "Hey girl…lookin' good…"

Bridgette laughed in spite of herself. "You idiot…"

"Is that anyway to talk to the man who saved the Princess? I deserve a medal."

"Stop talking. You need medical attention."

Gerald chuckled, then groaned.

Rhonda, Patty and Phoebe arrived at that moment.

"Is it bad?" asked Rhonda.

Phoebe knelt beside him to check his vitals. She shook her head. "It looks grim."

Bridgette broke down. "I'm so sorry…"

"Sorry for what?" asked Gerald.

"I've kept you at arms' length for so long…I used my position as an excuse to not get close to you…"

"Shh-shh-shh…enough of that," he said. "You did what you had to do. You've done an awesome job. And you'll do an even better one when I'm gone…"

"Don't talk like that…I love you Gerald…"

"Back atcha, Bridge…" they kissed.

A white light exploded out of the tower. The last thing Rhonda, Phoebe and Patty would see is that light.

The last thing Gerald and Bridgette would see is each other.

The last thing Mr. Sawyer would see as he held his twins Liam and Lila was the wall of white as it descended upon his home.

* * *

Sailor Pluto gripped her chest and steadied herself with her glaive.

She felt it. An immense disturbance in the balance of space-time.

She closed her eyes and focused her energy to pinpoint its source.

 _30th century…no…29…28….25…21st?_

What had happened?

She raised her glaive; a rip in the space-time continuum had opened up, and out fell an unconscious Diana and Luna.

Where was Chibi-Usa?

Sailor Pluto looked to the space-time door. It heaved and creaked with the chaos held within.

She frowned. There was a major loss of something. Somewhere in time.

Sailor Moon.

Sailor Mercury.

Sailor Mars, Jupiter and Venus.

They could not be relied upon to fix a problem of this magnitude.

A new team would be needed. In lieu of the old.

As Diana and Luna came to, Sailor Pluto braced herself as she prepared to task them with their most impossible mission yet.

 **THE END?**

 _ **Read Sailor Helga for the rest of the story :)**_


	9. Bonus - Bridgette's Lunar Eclipse

Bridget awoke in a cold sweat.

She was in bed, in the home of her parents.

 _This isn't right,_ she thought.

Where was Gerald? What happened to Phoebe, Rhonda and Patty?

She jumped out of bed and flicked on the light switch. She looked in the mirror.

Gone were here royal garbs and sleeping robe. They were instead replaced with purple flannel pajamas, a startling departure of fashion held over from bygone century.

Even more startling: she was no longer an adult! She looked the same, but measurably younger; by her estimate she looked like a preteen in the 6th or 7th grade.

How was this possible? One minute she was kissing the love of her life goodbye, the next minute she was thrust in the past.

And not just biologically, but temporally. She ran over to her bedroom window and opened it. She couldn't believe it: outside were cars and street fixtures she had only seen in textbooks.

She backed away and fell on the bed in shock.

 **It was true: she really did travel to the past.**

* * *

The next day, Bridgette stared uneasily at the entrance to her middle school, a primitive foundation for learning. As she walked down the hall, she froze, her heart nearly stopping. For just a few feet away, a familiar teenage woman was laughing and smiling with a group of students.

Princess Oleanna. The eldest daughter of the royal family, cruelly taken in the prime of life.

Bridgette slowly approached, her mouth agape, unwilling to believe what her own eyes were showing her: that Oleanna was brought back from the dead.

"See ya around, Olga," the group of students waved and departed for their classes. When the blonde teen turned around, her eyes glittered with warmth and recognition.

"Bridgette! There's my best friend! How was your weekend?"

"I….I mean…how is this possible…?" Bridgette stammered.

Olga waved her hand in front of Bridgette's face. "Hello? Earth to Bridge? Hehe….you're worse than my mother, and she has baby brain!"

"Huh?" _The Queen was alive as well?_

"Anyway, I'm sorry we can't hang out this weekend. Daddy's driving me to my piano recital. _Quelle dommage…._ but maybe you can sleep over the week after?"

Bridgette took all the information in. "Your mom's…pregnant?"

Olga frowned. "Yeah. About four months. I thought I had told you."

"You two! Get to class!" barked one of the teachers. "First period is about to start."

"Anyway, see you in 2nd period!" Olga raced to her next class.

Bridgette stood in the centre of the hall, utterly perplexed. "Goodbye…" This was making less and less sense by the second. Not only was she not the same age, but Helena hadn't even been born yet!

She was startled out of her reverie by the sound of an adult clearing their throat behind her.

"And what class should _you_ be in?" the teacher from earlier approached her and yanked thy syllabus out of her hand. He surveyed it briefly and nodded his head. Uh-huh…1st Period: Advanced Mathematics. Well? What are you waiting for? Get a move on!"

Bridgette obeyed the teacher, but as she did, a sense of dread crept over her. Advanced Math? What could she possibly know about Math?

* * *

Well, quite a lot actually. Despite not having a clue how she got to where she was, Bridgette had somehow become adept at the most difficult mathematic theories.

In the Past, she was a C math student at best. But somehow in her travelling in time, she picked up an affinity for numbers.

Who else had aged differently? And was there anyone else that had retained their memories? There was only one way to find out.

* * *

A group of young girls throughout the city had spotted Bridgette's flyer randomly posted throughout Hillwood ( _"What a strange name for a city," thought Bridgette_ ). The flyer contained a very difficult math problem that, if solved, would lead to a prize.

The 20 or so girls who succeeded in answering the puzzle were then directed to meet in a secluded area in the warehouse district, where they were greeted by Bridgette, standing above them on a railing.

"Congratulations on making it this far," she said. "If you came for the reward, I must let you know now that the prize is not an item. The prize is your FREEDOM. Freedom to accept the fact that the world is different and you're not exactly certain why, but you intend to find out. Who wishes to stay and solve the mystery?"

One hand went up, then another, and then another, until pretty soon everyone who had come to that decrepit area had their hand raised.

Bridgette smiled triumphantly. "Good. Then let's get to work."

* * *

In the span of a few months, the girls had transformed the space from a dingy old warehouse space to a centre of high-end technological advancement. At that point, Bridgette had given them their first assignment to test their mettle.

One night, the group of girls had followed her downtown to a building boarding a hospital. They stood on the roof of the adjacent building, waiting.

As they waited, Bridgette looked up to the night sky. It was cloudy, but she could scarcely make out the outline of the full moon.

"Oh, look!" pointed one of the girls.

The moon gradually began to disappear. Bridgette grinned. "A Lunar Eclipse – how fitting…"

A girl with binoculars peering over the edge of the building waved frantically. "Bridgette…it's time…it's happened!"

Bridgette bounded over quickly to the girls and took the binoculars from her. She peered inside, to a window on the side of the hospital.

Miriam was sitting in a bed close to the window; Big Bob was standing beside her, his hand on her shoulder. Olga/Oleanna stood beside him and marveled at the bundle swaddled in white cloth that her mother was holding.

Bridgette lowered her binoculars. That was all she needed to see for now. "Girls! Present arms!"

All the girls stood at attention and saluted. Bridgette followed suit and did the same.

"Happy Birthday, Helena."

* * *

The girls constantly improved their stronghold, making it more and more technologically advanced. Eventually Bridgette became the same age as she was before she and the others arrived in the strange city of Hillwood. She had made uniforms for her team – a jumpsuit and beret number – and together they monitored the goings-on of the city. Always in the background, never to be seen.

Until one day a girl approached her in the command centre, and handed her a notice.

Bridgette read it, her brow furrowing.

"It says they're going to shut down the neighbourhood to build a shopping centre. That's the neighbourhood where the Princess lives. Should we intervene?"

Bridgette crumpled the paper in her hands. "No…" She began walking away.

"But Commander—"

"I trust that this will work itself out," explained Bridgette. "We will only offer aid if it is asked."

"But what if it's not?" asked the girl.

Bridgette paused. She turned and smiled. "Oh, it will be. Because there are other forces at hand watching over the Princess. We'll give them a nudge if need be. But I am convinced that they'll ultimately be the ones to save the neighbourhood."


End file.
